WHAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Whoa Nelly!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Whoa Nelly!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Whoa Nelly!
Or Whoa Bradley, as the case may be. Charles Bradley is a phenomenon. A former James Brown tribute artist plucked from obscurity in his sixties and presented as some kind of savior of soulful music. Well, I don’t know about that but he is bloody good. I stumbled across Mr Bradley in the mirror tent of last year’s Haldern festival and was treated so a show so special I ended up in tears, hugging complete strangers just to share the joy around!
Here though, it’s a case of WHOOOAAAAAHHHH!!! Upon WHOAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! In many ways, this album is a bit much. Bradley delivers, that’s for sure, but it’s heavy handed. He often hits his trademark WHOOOAAAAAHHH!!!! far too early in a song and then, well, where can he go from there? The answer? He just does it again and again and again. Just listen to his first line in Victim Of Love! It’s so powerful, it puts you on the back foot immediately and where the song should be one that invites you in to feel sorry for him, you’ll probably end up running away from the speakers just to protect your ears. Nowhere to hide indeed.
Having said all that, the album is still well worth a listen but you may feel like you’ve just been shouted at for an hour by the time you get to the end.
Whoa Bradley, whoa.